These Days
by pretty-butterfly
Summary: Things are very different since the war ended, everyone's missing something or someone, and we all cope as best we can.


_"I've been out walking._

_I don't do too much talking these days._

_These days ... These days I sit and think a lot_

_About the things that I forgot to do._

_And all the times I had the chance to."_

_ These Days by Nico _

"Bill!"

He turned at the sound of his name to find a small but very determined looking woman marching towards him. She was with one of his brothers. Bill noticed that his brother looked a little annoyed at having to jog to keep up with his diminutive companion. _Uh oh, _he thought, _she doesn't look too pleased to see me._

"Where the hell have you been, William Weasley? Your mother's been going frantic. Says she hasn't heard from you in nearly two weeks! What are you trying to do to the poor woman?"

"Nice to see you too, Mione, Fred."

She seemed to have forgotten her anger as she flung herself at the redhead. He lifted her off the ground as he returned the hug and swung her round on impulse until she squealed at him and flailed her arms madly. Bill got the impression that Fred wasn't best pleased, though he was acting as though everything was fine.

"You just left on Boxing Day without saying goodbye, and when we were wondering where to send the search parties we got an owl with a quick note saying you had to work! What were you thinking?"

"It was an emergency; you know I wouldn't have left like that otherwise."

"Good to see you again, mate. Stick around a bit longer this time, yeah? And please don't disappear for months and stop writing like you did this time. Mum's been going spare."

"Yeah, look I'm sorry about that. I'll explain it all at home tonight."

"Ok, well I should get back to the shop. See you later, My."

Hermione hugged Fred and hit him at the same time, announcing that no one had permission to call her 'My'. Fred grinned and legged it before she could start ranting about 'My' making her sound like a possession which she most certainly was not and so on and so forth to infinity and beyond.

"So, young man, are you going to explain yourself?"

"Got time for a coffee?"

"Absolutely. Now, where have you been and what have you been up to and why did you stop writing two weeks ago and ..."

Hermione and Bill spent the best part of two hours sitting in a little café talking about the recent past and the not-so-recent past and eventually the not-so-distant future. Bill explained that he had been called away urgently to Egypt as some Muggles had disturbed a highly sensitive and ridiculously well-protected area. He hadn't given a proper explanation at the time because some of the information was classified and he knew his mother would worry far too much. And he'd stopped writing because he'd spent a week underground in a tomb. Then he'd finally been given his long awaited holiday, with what he referred to as 'time off for good behaviour.'

Hermione filled Bill in on her last few weeks of school. He still liked to tease her about using her years of friendship with Ron and Harry as experience for her position as Hogwarts professor. Hermione always pointed out that they never studied Arithmancy, but Bill said that wasn't the point. As always, he was thankful that Minerva McGonagall was so understanding of Hermione's situation. Teachers were generally required to live at Hogwarts during term time, but his young friend was not. She did have sleeping quarters at the school as well as an office, but usually she preferred to floo back to the Burrow, where she resided in Percy's old room.

Bill sighed sadly as he stirred his coffee and thought of what would greet him at the family home. Were it not for Hermione, his mother would be living almost alone now. His father had died in the war, as had Percy, Charlie, George and Ron. It hardly seemed fair that out of so many, only three siblings would survive. Ginny was off travelling the world. She had been unable to settle since the end of the war, and had taken to dropping in on her remaining family periodically between visits to exotic and far-off lands. Fred lived alone above his shop. And Harry was something of a recluse these days. He sat alone and silent in his room at St Mungo's, barely acknowledging Hermione's presence when she visited him every Sunday without fail.

Hermione gave Bill a sad smile, which he seemed not to notice.

"Penny for them."

"What?"

He looked confused and startled. She smiled sadly again.

"It's a Muggle saying. I was offering you a penny for your thoughts."

"Hey! I know pennies aren't worth much! Are you saying my thoughts are cheap?"

Hermione laughed softly at his outraged expression.

"No, Bill. It's just a saying."

"I was thinking about them. And I was thinking that I'm glad you talk about them still. I know to some people it seems callous to speak about the dead. It hurts them too much. But I can't help but think they'd rather forget."

"They don't mean it that way."

"I know." He sighed softly. "I'd better get home and explain myself to mum before she owls Missing Persons about me."

"Come on then."

So they paid for their coffees, and walked slowly from the shop before apparating to the perimeter of the Burrow's security wards. These had been installed during the war, and in the untrusting times since had still not been removed. Hermione doubted that they'd ever trust enough again to take them down.

Fred didn't seem happy the next time Hermione saw him. She suspected it had something to do with Bill's return, but she wasn't sure what she could do about that until the following Saturday. It had become habit for them to eat lunch together on Saturdays, as they had been doing just before bumping into Bill the previous day. Fred had turned up for Sunday dinner in quite a foul mood, which he had been trying his best to disguise.

Hermione sighed as she peeled potatoes and decided it would be best just to leave him to it. Fred didn't respond well to attempts to wheedle things out of him. Especially not with company. She resolved to tackle him about it on Saturday, or before if she managed to get him alone.

When Mrs. Weasley and Hermione had finished cooking dinner, the four sat round the table in comfortable silence, enjoying the food and each others presence. Well, Fred didn't seem too happy still. After a while, Hermione decided it was time to update everyone on Harry's 'progress'. She always called it progress. No one else did. In all honesty, Harry wasn't progressing at all. He was still silent. He hadn't said a word since the final battle in which Ron and Charlie had died. But Hermione was resilient as ever, convinced that it was only a matter of time before her Harry would return and replace this silent shadow, this mockery of a man, this ... He would return and replace this.

Fred looked even angrier. Molly nodded encouragingly at her surrogate daughter, though her eyes were dull and held no hope. And Bill looked at Hermione with a strange mixture of admiration and heartbreak. He wondered after all she had witnessed, after all that she had done, after all that had been done to her, how she could still hold out hope that her friend would be restored after five years without change. At twenty-two she seemed both painfully young and far too old. He was just past thirty and felt nothing but old. He hoped she'd keep that youthful hope for a little longer.

Bill wondered idly why Fred was so angry of late. He had seemed fine at Christmas, regaling them all with tales of his encounter with a lady friend who he had failed to inform that he had an artificial leg. Apparently her reaction to his moving plastic limb had been pretty hilarious. Bill had to force himself to suppress a chuckle at that memory.

He dragged himself out of his daydream and soon found himself engaged in a lengthy discussion with Hermione about the practical application of Arithmancy in curse-breaking. Once again he ended up asking her why on Earth she was teaching kids basic Arithmancy when she could be out there with the best in the world. She probably ranked fairly high up there without even trying. As always she laughed it off, saying that she was happy where she was thank you very much. He suspected that the real reasons were his mother and Harry.

Fred looked even angrier. He made his excuses and left. Molly announced that she was tired, so Hermione made her a cup of camomile tea and sent her off to bed.

Bill and Hermione sat up late, talking long into the night. They talked about curse-breaking and Arithmancy a bit more. Then they moved onto other intellectual topics, such as the state of the Ministry, and then moved onto more philosophical lines. When they had exhausted most interesting subjects, conversation turned to their personal and social lives, which were minimal to put it lightly.

"After the war, Fleur just couldn't cope. She didn't understand why I wanted to talk about them. She thought I was being insensitive. Then when she realized I talked _to_ them she thought I needed psychiatric help. It just didn't work out. And these past five years, I never met anyone who I found attractive that would ever be able to understand why I am the way I am. I _can_ be happy. Just not all the time. And not like that."

"I know exactly how you feel. And add to that, if you will, the fact that I live with your mum and even if I ever did decide to move, I'll never move far from Harry. I'll see him every Sunday, come what may. Wherever I may go, whatever I may do, there's a lot that comes with me that so many people just won't understand. Plus I'm a famous war hero. And you know how much fun that is!"

"The daft thing is, these women I meet who'll never understand, I'm glad for them. I'm glad they don't get it, because it means they haven't lost what we've lost. They haven't seen the things we've seen."

"And they haven't done the things we've done."

She looked up as she spoke, to find Bill returning her sad gaze. He reached across to her and took her small hand between his and held it gently.

"No. They haven't done the things we've done."

He stood abruptly and crossed the kitchen floor. Hermione watched him passively and simply nodded when he asked if she wanted hot chocolate. He prepared two mugs and then walked into the living room carrying them. When she didn't follow, he went back into the kitchen to see her slumped across the table. He grinned and lifted her as though she were a child and carried her into the living room. He settled on the sofa with her in his lap and summoned his hot chocolate, careful not to spill any on the sleeping woman in his arms.

Hermione awoke to find herself entangled with Bill on the sofa. In alarm she tried to extricate herself, only to end up in a precarious and somewhat compromising position. Bill shifted in his sleep. Hermione tried desperately to remain calm, but with her face this close to Bill's crotch she was blushing furiously and her heart was pounding. Giving it up as a lost cause she wriggled once more and landed with a thud on the floor. Bill woke up instantly, and leaned over her looking concerned.

"Are you ok?"

"Fine, fine."

Her cheeks were still burning as Bill helped her up. To her horror, Hermione was so flustered that she lost her balance and ended up landing on Bill's lap as she knocked him back onto the sofa. Instinctively, he had put his arms around her, and he was too surprised to realize that he had one arm round her waist as he pushed her hair back behind her ear and asked once again if Hermione was ok. She squeaked in reply.

Her heart was pounding madly still and as she became aware of his arms and how close they were, her breathing got heavier and she felt this mad desire to kiss him. Bill suddenly noticed that he still had an arm around Hermione, and a hand on her cheek. He gently caressed her face, sizing up the situation and slowly leaned closer to the woman in his lap. When she shifted towards him too, Bill took a deep breath and kissed her hard.

Hermione leaned in eagerly, reaching up to touch his face and pulling his hair loose. She ran her hands through it, pressing her body against his and feeling the ecstasy of his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth, his hands in her hair and on her face and on her back pulling her close. She shifted in his lap until she was straddling him and he moved a hand down to lightly trace her thigh.

"Not going to run back to Egypt anytime soon then?"

Guiltily, Hermione leapt off Bill and smoothed down her clothes. Molly's grin turned into laughter and Hermione was speechless. She hadn't seen Molly laugh like that since Percy died all those years ago. Bill grabbed Hermione and pulled her back onto his lap, so that she was still facing Molly.

"No, Mum. I'm not going back."

"Fred will need a little time to get used to this. But he'll come round in time."

"What? This is why Fred's angry? But nothing happened until five minutes ago!"

"That's as may be. But he saw this coming before you did. And since we lost ... Well, you've been his closest friend for some time now. He's a little afraid of losing you, dear. He doesn't want Bill to take you away. And he's angry with himself for not wanting you two to be happy. He'll come round in time."

"I never knew!"

"I know, dear. But try not to be too sad for him. We take what happiness we find these days."


End file.
